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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781463450106 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 12/08/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 100 |
| File size: | 119 KB |
Read an Excerpt
SEX out of Wedlock
By Alice Faye Andrews
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Alice Faye Andrews Ghost Writer: BoydAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-5011-3
Chapter One
I could feel the August air and it had a soft light feel to it. It was unlike the sticky down south humidity where I'd grown up. This was the west coast. Compton. Not the NWA Compton images that you think of today. This is a Harlem Renaissance Compton, a Miles Davis Kind of Blue Compton. Long before the days of drive-by's and crack cocaine. I was at a ground breaking ceremony with one of my six brothers Mark, a handsome, light skinned quirky man that also had an affinity for music. I also have five sisters. The ground breaking was for a state of the art music pavilion that little did we know would come to showcase some of the hottest talent in the history of music.My view was one from outside a six-foot high chain link fence. I could clearly see the stage where I was so I saw no need to pay three dollars to get in. This is a trait that my children would refer to as "cheap" in the latter years to come. Call it what you want, but I'm three dollars richer. My brother was bowling next door until the concert started, but I was so excited that I stayed and watched the technicians prepare. I'm from Oakdale Louisiana and we didn't get a lot of concerts down there.
From where I was standing, I could clearly see the stage. It stood about a yard high. The stage was made of wide planks, the type that would be on a navel deck of the USS such and such. It had a huge open deck appearance. Plenty of room for Count Basie's huge band and yet intimate enough for Lena to sing Stormy Weather. Hanging high above the stage, swaying in the gentle breezes were trip lights, rolling back and forth as if they were warming up for the performers. They electrified the sky with faded pinks, blue greens and sharp reds. Occasionally the multicolors would fuse into an intense white light.
I was watching everyone's level of anticipation rising as the line formed to get in the show. I, for the life of me, couldn't understand why people were paying to get in? Big city showoffs! As the line began to move into the pavilion, I heard a four-piece band begin to play a song of my parent's generation. A soft and calm version of Stardust was playing that would have made Lady Day proud. Suddenly the music stopped. In the center of the massive deck a lady appeared. She was dressed in explosive silver that showed off what the Lord gave her. Very curvy like most black women. Had ass when ass wasn't in style. For some reason white people believe J. Lo and the Kardashian sisters invented rumps. It's like Bo Derek with the Corn rows in 10. They're still copying our style and we get no credit. Everybody wants to be black until it is time to be black.
She took the microphone in her hand, "Hello out there!" Her vibrant voice rang out through the microphone and into the audience. "My name is Sally and we are here to have a good time as well as raise money for the future music center, right?!" The listeners roared with approval the only way a black audience roars. Full bodied and emotional, just like Def Jam Comedy. The audience quickly calmed down when prompted unlike audiences today because that was when decorum and manners were not only the order of the day but demanded from parents. The beautifully brown woman then said, "Let's start the show!"
Three Negro women ran frantically from the left side of the stage to the center of the big deck with a loud drum roll by the band. The ladies were dressed in long white gowns; their do's piled high like Dreamgirls. They looked exactly like the Supremes. The young girls took their position on stage and busted into "Stop! In the name of love."
I stood outside the fence, swaying and slowly throbbing to the beat of the music. I looked to my left behind me to see if my brother was coming out of the bowling alley to join me. Instead of my brother, I saw the blackest, most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life. His skin color against the night lighting was actually darker than the night. His skin was really clear and he was clean shaven. And his lips, OOOOOOH!.... big and thick with a natural pucker. The type of lips that engulf your mouth when they make contact with yours. We made eye contact and he immediately dropped his head to the ground. I attempted to watch the show but his looks stuck with me. It was useless. I would make subtle turns back to get a look at him and turn my head quickly around to catch the performance. Odd as it seemed to me, he was also watching me. He stared at me almost starkly, like a lion stalking an elk on the African Tundra. Quiet. Astute. Intense. Serious. Every time I look back it seemed to grow more intense. His feet began to shuffle back and forth as if he was listening to the national anthem and getting ready for tip-off. I distinctly caught the shine off his well-polished shoes. This gawking went on for what felt like three seconds. Next I could hear and feel movement behind me. I then looked over my left shoulder and completely spellbound, I looked into his dark fierce eyes. Frozen.
In a very soft, smooth polished voice I heard, "What is your name?"
I answered coyly, "Mary, Mary Jones." I could not take my eyes off this man. I was captivated.
He said, "I bet you're wondering why I kept staring at you? I thought I knew you but I don't think I do?"
At that point in time my brother approached him from behind and said, "Are you ready to go Mary?" He had to get to work in the morning and had to get some sleep.
The stranger was stunned when my brother approached from behind. His entire demeanor changed. His mouth dropped and his eyes rolled rapidly toward my brother, sizing him up, with a sense of disappointment.
The stranger then said in a stern voice, "I'll see that Mary gets home." I sensed the tension.
I then turned to the stranger, "This is my brother Mark." The stranger's mannerisms softened. He became friendlier toward my brother.
Mark then asked quizzically, "Are you sure that you want to ride with him?" Mark then looked at me only the way an older brother can look at you when questioning your judgment.
I said, "Yes."
My brother then left me there with a stranger in the dark in Compton. Ain't love dumb? And my brother is dumber.
Once my brother left the chemistry between the stranger between me began to soar! We stood there gazing into each other's eyes, not speaking, not moving, letting the natural vitals take over.
The mood was broken with him saying, "It's silly for us to stand outside the gate in the darkness. Would you like to go inside and sit down?"
"I kinda like watching from a distance, and besides, one never knows whom one might see."
The stranger's eyebrows wrinkled, "Why would you say that?"
Pointing my finger to the right of the fence, "See if you can recognize the person standing in front of us inside of the fence."
The dark man focused in on the statuesque individual. His voice rose to a high pitch. "That can't be! That's Cassius Clay! He is going to be the next Heavyweight Champion of the World!"
The soon to be Champ and always to be arrogant Clay was aware of our conversation about him. He turned to face us and let out a big Ali smile and waved. I had been in California for about two weeks, met the most delicious man I've ever seen in my life and had the great Cassius Clay smile at me all in one night!
My attention went back to the stranger. "I don't think I got your name?"
His large lips curled to one side of his mouth and said, "That's because I haven't told you."
We laughed out loud! The engaging newcomer immediately said, "My name is Ted Carter."
I asked, "Do you live around here?"
"No, I'm in the Navy and my ship's docked at Long Beach Port."
The Supreme wannabee's finished there act and left the stage. Sally reappeared on the deck and shouted into the loudspeaker, "Did all of you enjoy those little sweeties?!"
The mob responded with ringing chants of "Yes!" After silencing the people, Sally told them, "Now its time to give a donation for the ground breaking site."
A tall muscle bound man draped in a gold and white tunic with matching flair pants walked on stage with a cooper vat in his hand and placed it on the slippery planks in the middle of the deck. The band struck up a tune of Summertime and Sally spoke enthusiastically over the music, "I'm going to ask the audience to leave their seats and form a single line to the right of the stage and come up here and fill the tub."
The restlessness of the multitude of people began to move to the right side of the stage.
I looked at Ted and said, "It looks like it's time for me to give up the three dollars I've been hanging on to."
Ted's eyes widened. He reached into his pocket, flipped a twenty-dollar bill to me and said, "I think you can do better than that."
I humped my shoulders, smiled giddily saying, "Generous." Showoff.
We walked inside the gate, instantly blinded by the bright trip lights and joined the others in the single line to make a donation. As we moved gradually toward the front of the Pavilion, I could hear a man's voice fading in and out. He was working his way through a line of people, "Excuse me! Pardon me!"
He caught up with me and Ted, talking spontaneously and heated. "Hey man. I've been looking all over for you; it's time for us to get back to the ship!"
Ted waving his hands in the air, "Ok! Ok! As soon as I give up the cash, I'll be right there."
The sailor that approached us so impetuously made a rapid U-turn and began to hastily walk away. "We will be waiting in the car."
We continuously made our way to the front of the stage and Ted put in another twenty dollars in the cooper vat. "I'm not ready to say good night yet. Let's hurry back to the car so I can take you home."
I became excited! I didn't want us to part either. "Yes I would like that!" We walked at a fast pace to get to the car. We arrived at the dark-green 57 Chevy where two Negro sailors were dressed in white uniforms, sitting on the hood of the car.
"Well it's about time Lover Boy!"
Ted scarcely smiling, "Mary, the hurried one is Eric, you met him already and on the other side of the hood is James."
"Hello."
"I'm going to give Mary a ride home."
The men and I huddled in the car. Ted drove as I sat next to him in the front seat. The other two men sat in the backseat.
Ted asked, "Where do you live Mary?"
"Not far, just ahead down the way. I will tell you where to turn."
We drove the next few blocks in tranquility. I told Ted, "Turn left at the next stop light."
Ted made the turn and nothing on the street looked familiar. I said quickly, "We're on the wrong street. This is Palmer not Maie Street." Eric sighed deeply, "Don't you know where you live? We have to get back to the ship!"
Ted became irritated, "Knock it off Eric! We'll get there when we get there! Right now, let's just get Mary home."
We eventually arrived at the small blue and white house on the corner of Maie Street. I said "Thank you for the ride." I opened the car door and ran to the entry of my house. I could hear my mother reading the riot act to my brother Mark for letting me go with a stranger to go God knows where to do God knows what. Ted moved as swiftly as I moved, behind me calling, "Wait! Wait! I would like to see you again! Can I have your telephone number?"
Putting the key in the door, "The telephone hasn't been installed yet."
Ted shuffled his feet with the same shuffle he had at the pavilion, "You're not trying to get rid of me are you?"
I replied affectionately, "No, I like you ... but I've been living at this address for only two weeks."
The car horn blew unexpectedly. A loud voice followed. "THIS IS BULLSHIT! WE'VE GOT TO GO!!"
Ted snapped back, "Coming, Coming!"
I quietly whispered, "Say goodnight Ted."
Chapter Two
Saturday night of the following week at about eight o'clock pm I heard two knocks on the door. I opened it and I was awestruck! My heart liked to stop! There stood Ted, looking very sexy and dapper in his navy and white sailor uniform. I hadn't given Ted much thought since that occasion. I just thought it was a wonderful night and I went back to my life.He was all lips, "Hi Mary, I've been thinking a lot about you all week. One of the guys from the ship is having a house party and I thought you'd like to come."
I could feel my face glowing with passion. "Yes I would like to go, but first come in the house and meet mother."
Ted came in the living room and took a seat on the couch. Madea was sitting in the bedroom watching The Steve Allen Show.
I said beaming, "Madea, come with me to the living room to meet Ted."
Madea looked at me with shifty eyes and said, "Who is this Ted and where did you meet him?"
"I met him a week ago, at the music center. Oh, you will like him, he is a sailor and he wants your permission to take me to a house party."
"A Sailor!" I caught her rolling her eyes, but she went back into the living room with me to meet Ted.
"Ted, this is Madea, my mother."
With raised eyebrows, "What ya'll call her?"
"Madea."
He stood up extending his hand to shake my mothers. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Jones; I would like to take your daughter to a party." Madea put her hand out to shake Ted's and I could see her reading his every move.
Ted dropped his head and his eyes affixed to the floor. Madea said without delay, "Will you excuse us?"
"Sure."
Madea walked back into the bedroom, closing the door, "Sailors! Mary, I don't know ... You know they have a girlfriend in every port."
I ranted, "But you don't know anything about him!"
"Mary, I never trust anybody who don't look me in the eyes and, above all, somebody who's going to take my daughter out on a date."
"Well all right Madea ... If you feel that strongly against it, I won't go out with him."
I reluctantly went back to the living room and Ted rapidly sprung to his feet.
"Ah, what's the verdict? Can you go to the party with me?"
Answering saddened, "Nope, can't make it tonight."
His forehead deepened with lines, "Is everything tight with you and your mother?"
Stoned faced, I lied, "Everything is fine, can't make it tonight."
Ted moved closer to me, looked into my eyes with empathy, toyed with my sleeveless blue blouse, "Hey, what about next Saturday night?"
My face cracked with a big smile, "That sounds good to me!"
He made a light touch on my arm, "Until Saturday night then."
I raced back into the bedroom, bouncing on the queen-sized bed that five of us had to sleep on and blurted out, "I have a date with Ted on Saturday Night!!"
Madea's grossly overweight body suddenly rose from the chair. "After I told you not to go out with him!?"
Cushioning the feather pillow under my chin and looking up at the ceiling, "I suppose you're right, but I'm very attracted to him. Oh please! Just this one time!"
"Mary ... you don't know much about men or this guy. You are only eighteen and never been on a real date."
I reached over and put my arms around Madea's oversized waistline, "I'm asking you in the name of love!"
Madea's mouth opened with a smirk, "Ok Child! But I think you're asking for major heartbreak."
The next week I was busy and overwhelmed getting ready for my date with Ted. I shopped at all the best department stores in Los Angeles; at least the one's I thought were the best. I was searching for the perfect dress, getting my haircut in the latest Diana Ross flip. I manicured my nails in the hottest new fuchsia glow-in-the-dark nail polish.
The mornings quickly accelerated into afternoons. Madea was even civil to me during that week. She glimpsed at me with disapproving eyes and a condescending smile, but kept her comments about Ted to herself.
After painstakingly getting dressed, the big night came at last. I told Madea with warmth, "I'll be in the bathroom when Ted arrives, I don't want to appear overanxious."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from SEX out of Wedlock by Alice Faye Andrews Copyright © 2011 by Alice Faye Andrews Ghost Writer: Boyd. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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